


Assassins and Wolves

by PhantomQuill



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Assassin!Derek, Assassins & Hitmen, Banshee Lydia Martin, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kidnapped Lydia, M/M, Other, Sex, Violence, Werewolf!Derek, assassin!Stiles, implied coercive interrogation, rival organizations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:58:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13002336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomQuill/pseuds/PhantomQuill
Summary: After not hearing from Lydia for three days, Stiles finds himself in France looking for her. Along the way he meets Derek. Things get interesting from there...





	Assassins and Wolves

Stiles watched as Lydia untucked her hair from under her white silk blouse and buttoning it up before raising her leg to step onto her bed where he sat. His eyes appreciated the strength in her legs as she slipped on her sheer stocking with a lacy frilled hem, moving on smoothly with practice. Strawberry blond hair falling over her shoulder as she swiftly switched positions to a seating one so she could replicate the same thing for her other leg. 

“If I didn’t know one particular detail Stiles, I would say you are attracted to me sexually.”

Stiles snorted and watched her stand and pull the tights over her bosom and settle just below her belly button—the black stark against her skin. “Wouldn’t you wish?”

“Ah yes. My goal is to convert all the homosexuals.” Lydia fondly rolled her eyes as she shimmied on her black pencil skirt. “Here, hand me that would you?” 

Stiles reached in the night dresser and pulled out her garter that Stiles ordered for her from Sock Dreams when her last one was tampered with on her last mission. He then handed her the sheathes for her knives and watched as she assembled it on her upper thigh. The Velcro loop ensuring that the knives would not slide out. She looped the garter at the top of the strap and adjusted it to a favouring ease of arming herself if it was necessary—settling it on her outer thigh. 

Lydia then tucked the sheath into her stocking before pulling down her skirt over the knives carefully. She smoothed her clothing over her frame adjusted where the fabric settled—her face scrunching up as she looked at her actions through her body mirror. Her eyes met Stiles as she turned around to smile at him. 

He smirked as he gave her the red blazer that was on the bed post behind him. It was Lydia’s favourite and Stiles took pride in the fact that he bought it for her for her twenty-fifth birthday to match his infamous red hoodie he kept as a trend since high school (it took a lot of red hoodies to keep that alive, especially with his occupation). She joked about wanting a blue leather jacket but they both know that the red blazer was more Lydia’s style. 

“You will be careful.” Stiles demanded softly in her ear when he went in for a hug. “Deaton said this mission should not take longer than a week. If you’re longer without any word I will come for you. I will know what to look for, will you remember the symbol?” 

Lydia frowned a little when she pulled away, “Stiles…everything will be fine. I don’t think you will need to come and get me.” She then brushed her hair over her shoulder while using Stiles’ own to balance herself as she slipped on matching red five inch heels. She huffed as she looked around in irritation until she spied her purse. Stiles shrugged when she gave him an accusing look. “I doubt the situation would get that difficult where they have to send you in.”

Stiles nodded, praying that Lydia was right. “What am I telling our parents this time?” In Lydia’s and Stiles’ last year of high school their parents dropped the bomb that they were getting married. The teenagers knew their parents were dating, just not long enough to propose a marriage. Stiles was a little hurt at first but he accepted the news when Mrs. Martin pulled him aside and expressed that he will never remove Claudia Stilinski’s memory from their home. 

Years passed since then and Stiles has never seen his father happier since the death of his first wife and Stiles got the best step-sister ever. Brilliant and strong-minded she was, while he was cunning and quick acting. Together they were recruited by Deaton while they were off at separate universities to join a secret government operations branch—using both their specialties to the organizations advantage. 

“Tell them that I went to Paris.” Which isn’t a lie since that it where the mission was to take place, “Doing….” She pursed her lips and thoughtfully clicked her heel, “sight-seeing.”  
“Is this architecture and such or men?”

“Why not both?” She winked playfully. “Now. I have to go and catch my flight. I will be calling you every day. See you next week.”

“Be careful Lyds.” Stiles repeated watching her leave.

“Don’t worry Stiles. Au revoir! “

Stiles didn’t hear from her on the third day.

~~~~~

“Stiles!” Scott asked shocked when he pushed his way passed the glass doors and walking straight on into Deaton’s office. Scott hot on his heels. Deaton looked up at the two of them before settling his eyes on Stiles and sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was expecting this.

“Do you have any contact with her?”

“I’m afraid we lost her on the third day—we had assumed the Argents were forcing her into radio silence and that she would come back online when it was clear. It has been a week now and she was not on the return flight. We were about to call you, actually. We might need your help with this one.”

“You bet your ass you do.” Stiles scowled. “You neglected to tell me that you lost all contact with Lydia in a foreign country against the Argent’s organization. She is there to collect information—information in which should have been in your hands and Lydia standing right next to me by now. When am I leaving?”

“Right away.” Deaton reported pulling something from his drawer and placing it face up on the desk before clasping his hands together and staring at Stiles.

Stiles squinted at the older man before he looked down at the folder. He stepped forward and flipped through the folder. This is information. Where she was, what she was supposed to do, who her target was. He peered down at the blond woman in the photo that was taken in a local bar. Sitting by an attractive scruffy man, maybe a couple of years older than Stiles. Stiles closed the folder, nodded and turned to leave.

That is when Stiles found himself, two hours later, on an outbound flight to Paris with no stops. Listening to music and drumming his fingers on his crossed leg’s knee. Bobbing his head and mouthing the lyrics while staring out the window—the seat beside him thankfully empty. 

For the next sixteen hours he cycled between music, using his laptop, staring out the window and sleeping. He was physically and mentally exhausted by the time he landed and made his way to get his luggage and customs. He was tapping his foot as the woman looked at him analytically. 

“What is your business here?”

“Family.” Stiles replied tiredly. Wishing this process would hurry itself. A flurry of questions continued to follow and Stiles easily following yet forgetting his response immediately after. Finally, she stamped his passport and let him pass. 

When he exited the airport he waved at a taxi before whistling. One stopped and stepped out, helping Stiles pack his bags. When Stiles settled in, he watched the man from the rearview mirror before sighing. “52 rue de la Federation, 15 arr., Paris s il’ vous plait.”

« Oui monsieur » Was his response. Crisp and hoarse. 

Stiles noted that the taxi driver’s eyes kept flicking back towards him—forcing Stiles to will himself not to reach into his carry-on and pull out his Maxim 9. He has never had a mission in France before, if he unnecessarily kills his taxi driver he leaves himself stranded. That doesn’t help anyone. Especially Lydia.

The ride probably felt longer than it need to be but when he arrived he gave the man some cash, pulled his luggage out of the car and entered the hotel. Deaton promised it was one of the best ones in Paris and within travel distance to get to the Eiffel Tower. Stiles just hoped that it would help keep his profile on the down low—they always look for people like him in shaggy places. Break the Stereotype—save a life Stiles would always say. 

“Bonjour! Bienvenue, vous avez une réservation avec nous aujourd'hui? »

« Oui Madam. Un moment s il’ vous plait. » Stiles scrambled in his pocket until he pulled out his slip that Deaton had given him to show his reservation. Stiles worried his lip; Deaton had him prepared, it made Stiles ponder if he had initially made the back-up plan for Stiles before he had even sent of Lydia. Was he withholding something from the both of them or were the Argents just that worrisome? “Ah! Ici.”

The woman leaned over her desk and tilted her head so she could see the slip before smiling brightly and handing him the key to suite 502. Stiles gathered his things and sauntered over to the elevator before stepping on. He hated elevators but he was just so tired to bring his luggage up the stairs. 

He found his room and eyed the door, it was a card access—lessening the chance of a lock-picking situation but heightening a hacking. That is…if the Argents had a hacker on their team. God Stiles hoped not, that means he will have to find them first and eliminate them first. Prevent any of his exposure—Lydia knows better not to speak of him. As did the rest of the organization. 

He unpacked carefully, stepping around the room and slightly cursing the predaciousness of everything. Why couldn’t there be a loose floor board that Stiles could hide his weapon. Well, he was licensed internationally to carry one just like how he has an international driver’s licensed. But carrying a gun draws attention, obviously, attention he doesn’t need. 

In the end, he left them in the case he originally had it in and slipped it under the bed. Stiles hooked up his laptop to the internet but only surfed the private browser. Opening the file Deaton had Scott send him as Spam Mail. 

He scanned the files, reading on the Argents as well as the open cases the government has been trying to pin on them for ages—Hell, even before Deaton went in charge. There is little no evidence connecting them to any of it to be fair, but the more Stiles searched he noticed that all the victims were that of supernatural affiliation and Argents were documented to be the first hunter family against the supposedly first werewolf in France. La bête du Gévaudan. 

They were smart about it too. They make it look like accidents that could happen to anyone. Gas leaks leading to a house explosion, drownings, poisoning, or even things like stabbings and shootings. But Stiles knows—due to hacking done, that the Supernaturals were tortured first. Werewolves electrocuted, Phoenix’s water doused, sphinx’s and angels had their feathers’ plucked….he couldn’t imagine what they would do to Lydia if they had her. A Banshee.

“I need a fucking drink.” He murmured to himself when he notices that way more time has passed than what he originally thought. Looking at the file to see the bar that the blond woman normally goes to. He types the address in his phone and noticed it isn’t too far from where he is now. He grabbed his jacket and walked.

The music was loud and the people were louder as he made his way through to the front of the bar. He let a slow smirk reach his lips as he ordered a whiskey on ice. His father’s favourite that grew on him as he got older. The bartender scrunched up his face as he looked Stiles’ up and down before pouring him a glass.

Stiles winks at the man as he clinks the ice against the glass as he leaned forward, making sure his black v-neck shirt rode up at his waist to expose a bit of his lithe body. As he sipped a bit of the whiskey, licking the rim of the glass before biting it a little, his eyes explored. Stopping on the man that—by some God given miracle, was the same man in the picture with the blond woman.

God he was more attractive now. His facial hair was cropped short, close to a five o’clock shadow. His black hair was sleek black and seemed to have settled in its natural place without any help from gels. A sort of wave could be seen in the shine. His expression, especially his eyes, were intense as he leaned back in his booth. Spreading his legs a little, he kept looking at Stiles. Stiles’ eyes roved down, he was in a white deep v-neck Henley with a leather jacket worn over. His jeans looked like they were painted on, cutting of circulation while on his feet were worn out but heavy-duty combats. 

Stiles smirked slyly as he threw back the rest of his whiskey without wincing before standing up and sashaying his way to the man, who was watching his every move with intent. Like he was a predator….his blown eyes flashing and Stiles withheld a gasp of realization. A Werewolf? Did he know the woman he was talking to was a hunter?

Smiling, he sank down on the booth beside the man, raising his hand to caress the cheek while it glided up and brought the man’s head forward to a forceful kiss. It turned heated as the man responded. Stiles slithered so that he was on the man’s lap and bending his neck to kiss him. He pulled away, short-breathed and laughed a little. 

“Maybe France was the place to come after all.” He commented hoarsely. Not even processing that this guy would even know English.

“American?” He asked gruffly if not confused, his accent clearing indicating that he was American as well. Stiles nodded as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and leaned forward so he head was against the man’s shoulder. 

“I’m Stiles by the way.” He grinned. If he could get on this guy’s good side maybe he could use him to lure that blond woman out and therefore get him one step closer to Lydia. Then they can both leave this country and never come back. But as he looked at the man, he found that maybe they could work together to bring the woman down. “And you are?”

“Derek.” He grumbled. Nosing at Stiles’ exposed neck as he rutted upwards. Causing Stiles to throw his head back and groan at the friction.

“My place.” Stiles moaned in Derek’s ear, regretfully getting off Derek’s lap. Laughing as he guided him back to his hotel room. Once he passed the keycard and closed the door behind him, Derek pushed him against the door and devoured his mouth. At the same time he was ripping apart Stiles’ button down while Stiles worked to shuck of the leather jacket and pull the shirt over his head. 

They bounced down the hall until they got to Stiles’ room. Stiles chuckling as he pushed Derek onto the bed and hovered over him, fingers working the belt as he pulled it out of the loops before leaning down daringly and biting the zipper. Dragging it down slowly before breathing on Derek’s crotch before peeling the jeans off Derek’s skin. Stiles then worked his own jeans and pulling that off along with his boxers.

Derek groaned while Stiles stroked him cock, licking his lips at the image of Derek crying his name—oh that was his goal tonight and there was nothing anyone can say about it. Well. Except for Derek. As Derek hardened, Stiles held the erection in place as he raised himself to his knees. Derek’s hands automatically went to Stiles’ hips as though he was going to help Stiles’ guide himself down on Derek. Slowly, without any preparation (Which is bad on Stiles’ part but sometimes he likes the sting), he lowered himself until Derek bottomed out. Stiles was wincing at the pain but was slowly moving. Rotating his hips a little to stretch out a bit. 

He whined a little at the back of his throat while he stretched his body over Derek’s own, tracing his nails on the older man’s stomach to his chest to his wrap his fingers in his hair before he raised his hips and lowered it. Making small thrusts as he panted in Derek’s ear. Murmuring filthy words as he picked up the pace. Groaning against the slap of skin as Derek began to take control, keeping Stiles above him as he slammed up over and over again. Tearing a scream from his throat at one too many hits against his prostate. He bit down on Derek’s ear an that caused a particularly rough thrust that had them both hitting their climaxes with wrecked cries.

Stiles could feel Derek’s load shoot through him and it took him a second to process they didn’t use protection. But Stiles was clean and Werewolves didn’t get STD’s so he had nothing really to worry about. He moaned as he rocked his hips a little, helping them both against the aftershock of their orgasms. Stiles raised himself and Derek’s cock fell limp once it exited Stiles. Stiles remained on top of Derek until the man gently pushed him off and made his way to the bathroom. Stiles carefully leaned over the side of the bed and unlocked the case that held his gun in case he needed to make a grab for it.

Stiles could hear water running and he sat up, looking down at the mess they made. He had the itching feeling to ask how they smelt together. But asking that would notify Derek that he knows about the Supernatural, which could put him at risk. He walked to his desk and double checked that his laptop was off and the files were tucked away before going to knock on the bathroom door. 

His smile widened when Derek opened the door and showed Stiles his body, a growing appreciation as he leaned against the door frame and took the man in. he could still feel the come dripping down every time Stiles moved. He took Derek’s hand, his lithe fingers flanking Derek’s before he led them to his mouth and he sucked on them. Slowly closing his eyes and moaning, taking them in deep that Derek made a whining sound at the back of his throat and his eyes were blown wide. 

“Wait.” He groaned out, pained even. Stiles immediately aborted, pulling the fingers out from his mouth and dropping his hand as if it was suddenly hot. He took a few steps back before turning his back to Derek and grabbing the sheets to give him some semblance of decency. “Stiles wait.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. Shaking his head as he rested it on his hands. This wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan—he wasn’t supposed to sleep with anyone. He was supposed to find Lydia and get the hell out of there so they could regroup and attack the Argent's some other way. 

Derek’s fingers gently wrapped around Stiles’ wrist and pried them from his eyes. They were red and blotchy, God, not even a day in France he was already fucking up. This would never happen. What’s wrong with him. “Stiles?”

“You weren’t suppose to come here with me.” Stiles confessed lowly. Derek frowned a little at that, “I was supposed to find my sister and bring her home.”

“Your sister?”

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes. Searching for any hints of malic or betrayal. Eyes flicking to his posture to see if it tightens or twitches to reveal something. Stiles sighed and closed his eyes. “Lydia. She came to Paris a week ago and I haven’t heard from her after the third day.”

“Lydia Martin?” Stiles stiffened as he watched Derek about to say something. Something instinctual set in and Stiles kicked Derek in the chest. Surprised, Derek flew back while Stiles threw himself to his case, fingers enclosing around the gun before Derek grabbed his ankle.

When Derek yanked, Stiles sat up and raised the gun. Levelling it to the Werewolf’s head. He was breathing hard and no doubt frantic looking. Derek raised his hands in innocence with wide eyes. “Don’t touch me.” Stiles demanded, scrambling back. When Derek didn’t reply but listened, Stiles continued. “Where is she?”

“We met up once. We are on the same assignment by two different organizations both targeting the Argents. I can show you my badge.” Stiles relaxed a little at that as he watched Derek pick up his pants and ruffle around in the pockets until he revealed a badge and identification. Stiles dropped the gun. “That wouldn’t have worked.”

Stiles knew what he was referring to, “I don’t carry Wolfsbane.”

That seemed to have shocked Derek a little, “Why not?”

“They are not my enemy.” You are not my enemy, Stiles wanted to say. Instead he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry….for my display earlier. That usually doesn’t happen.”

“What are you doing here?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m the one they call in when things are too fucked up to be handled by a normal Agent. I’m also here for my sister. Do you have any information on her? It is crucial to know if she is within Argents base or not.”

“They generally don’t mess with humans.”

“Lydia isn’t exactly human.” Stiles confessed. “She’s a Banshee. I know what the Argents do to supernaturals. Now. Lydia wouldn’t be so stupid to get herself caught so I know she is staying low and she will find a way to contact me and reveal to me where she is. I just gotta figure out what.”

“I could help.”

Stiles blinked before laughing. “Sorry…sorry.” He apologized between fits of giggles. “Why would you help me? We fucked, that’s it.” Stiles caught onto the sneer that flashed on Derek’s face before continuing, “Unless, you don’t want it to be a simple fuck.”

“I’m looking for a partnership for this mission. I feel Kate—the one I’m supposed to go after, is playing me more than I’m trying to play her. With you in the picture we might be able to throw her off, hence delivering a major blow in their organization.” Derek replied carefully, “If we spend…ahem…extracurricular activities with one another on the side that is fine too.” Derek fidgeted with the sheet wrapped around Stiles’ lower body.

Stiles grinned evilly as he took Derek’s hand and moved it to his crotch underneath the fabrics. Derek’s eyes met his and Stiles nodded, enough encouragement.   
Stiles couldn’t do anything at the moment to find Lydia, four o’clock in the morning? God no. So he decided to spend the night with Derek and then work with Lydia’s missing person’s status in the morning.

~~~~~

Stiles blinked blearily as he looked outside. Slightly disoriented at the sight of the Eiffel Tower. Then he remembered where he was and why. He went to move but a weight on his waist prevented him from doing so. Stiles smiled to himself as he sat up a little and shook Derek awake. When Stiles could see his beautiful green eyes he smirked,  
“Wake up Wolfy. We need to find Lydia. Knowing her she is gathering information somewhere.”

Fifteen minutes later they were walking out of the hotel and walking the streets of Paris. According to Deaton, Lydia’s hotel wasn’t too far from the Eiffel Tower as well. He glanced down at his phone where he had jotted the address—displaying it for Derek to see if he knew where it was.

Derek looked around before pointing onwards. Stiles grinned as he refrained from any references as they made their way to the hotel. They walked to the front desk and Stiles smiled brightly, “Bonjour!” He started cheerfully, looking at the bored man. The man gave him an unimpressed look with an arched brow. Stiles licked his lips. “Je suis à la recherche de ma soeur, son nom est Holly. Elle est réservée sous le nom de Den.”

The man clicked away at his computer and Stiles looked back to share a look with Derek who arched a brow of his own and shook his head—having no answers for Stiles’ question. How hard was it to look someone up in the database. Sure, Holly Den was a stupid name—when Lydia first saw it she snorted, but Stiles’ alias was just his own. 

“Préférez-vous l'anglais?” Stiles nodded and the man proceeded to answer his question with a accent to rich and heavy that Stiles would have betted his luck on the French. “The Ms. Holly Den…checked out on her third day.”

It’s always three. 

“The one who checked her out went to retrieve her luggage.” 

Stiles blinked at that. “Someone else checked her out? Did you get a face? Or a name? Please sir, this is important. I haven’t heard from here since the third day she arrived here in Paris.”

The man looked to be processing the information before frowning a little. Looking around warily—Stiles and Derek followed to see if there was anyone following the conversation. Eavesdroppers—Argents? Argents is the most well known name in the Underground industries here in France, their name undoubtedly passing around like a rumour you were to be weary of. 

“I am afraid I do not have an answer.” He sadly replied as he scribbled something down. He turned the note so that Stiles could read a name. Stiles gritted his teeth when he noticed the name was a higher power himself, Chris Argent. The son of the main organizer, “I would go to the police for your answers. They would help you.”

Police? “Merci.” Stiles replied stonily as he turned to exit out of the hotel, Derek following. Once they were outside Derek gave him information.

“Chris Argent is the eldest son of Gerard Argent, the one in charge of their illegal affairs and crimes against the supernaturals as well as collateral damage. He isn’t as active as his sister, my target, Kate Argent but that doesn’t mean that he is a clean slip.” Derek fixed his leather jacket and looked to Stiles. “He strayed from his father’s path, reportedly, sixteen years ago. Dealing with more human affairs like drug and arms trafficking to secret societies. Still reports to his father on major missions when there is a reported hostile inmate. They arrested Chris though, a couple of days ago—it was all over the news. But knowing the money and power they hold over the government he won’t be in there long. We need to move.”

Stiles took a second to admire the information and efficiency. Falling in love a little at the organization and execution of Derek’s words. Stiles no doubt would have rambled throughout that whole thing and it would have been disastrous to everyone. Stiles nodded and Derek hailed a taxi. 

As they set up to walk into the police Derek readied his badge. Stiles caught a quick glance and noticed that it was different from the one Derek had shown him the night before. As he walked in, Stiles followed confidently. His whole life he practically grew up in the Sheriff’s Station—Stiles studied their posture and attitude to the point he has perfected it. 

“Bonjour.” Derek started, “Mon nom est Derek, je suis un détective avec le trafic international des affaires étrangères. Je suis ici pour poser quelques questions à Christopher D'argent. » Derek waited as the man inspected his badge before cursing under his breath as he turned to presumably get Chris Argent in the interrogation room. 

Shortly after, Derek and Stiles was escorted into the room where they came face to face with Chris Argent. His wicked blue eyes cutting as he glared at Stiles and Derek. His arms were tattooed to replicate a sleeve with a shadowed effect. His blond hair unkept and stubble growing. He sneered as the two sat down, Stiles crossed his hands in front of him and smiled sunnily.

“Chris Argent. My name is Stiles.” The man’s eyes widened little. “Oh, so you know me? Odd. My file doesn’t go around much. But good that you know. Now you will know what happens to you if you don’t give me the answers I want, do we understand each other?”

“I will not easily give my family up.” He seethed, accent a little more tamed but very stereotypical. Like the ones you will see in the movies….maybe Lumiere from Beauty and the Beast? “You will have to try harder boy.”

“You’re going to regret giving me that invite.” Stiles smiled, texting into his phone to Deaton. “As we speak your case and file will be transferred to California where French laws will not apply to you and quite frankly you will be held into our custody. If I do not find what I am looking for the easy way?” Stiles raised his voice in questioning as he shrugged, “Well, I would be really worried for you and…” Stiles looked down and read the text before smiling wider to complete his act, “And your daughter’s future.”

Chris Argent fought against his shackles as he growled. “Do not touch Allison.” 

“I wouldn’t have to if you just give me the answers I am looking for.”

Chris gave them both a calculated look before he groaned and closed his eyes. “I checked her out of the hotel and handed her over to Kate. They said they have someone to care for people who is like her and they were excited to begin. That is where we got information on your name. Odd.” Chris slightly mocked, “An Agent without a record. You’re a ghost Stiles…and as your name played on a Banshee’s lips. Death calling a name? We knew you had to be something, I’m surprised to see you’re not much in person.”

“What will you be doing to her?” Stiles will come back to that last part later.

“I don’t work with supernatural’s anymore.” Chris scoffed. 

Stiles looked to Derek who nodded in confirmation, “He’s telling the truth.” Chris’s eyes flickered between Derek and Stiles in curiosity.

“What are you?” Stiles and Derek didn’t answer him. 

Stiles’ smile grew cold and wicked. “Don’t worry Christopher. I do not live to disappoint. I will be seeing you shortly in the California base.”

Stiles and Derek left the police station and Stiles groaned in frustration. “I was really relying on the fact that I would be a ghost to them.” He finished gloomily. Derek took his hand in a sense of comfort before resting his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“That’s quite the reputation you have to have Chris Argent’s heart accelerating a little at the mere mention of your name.” Derek looked, what was that? Impressed? Wow, Stiles didn’t think he would be flushed at the idea of someone like Derek being impressed in him.

“I worked hard for that reputation.” He meekly replied. Not entirely proud and definitely not dinner conversation topics.

“Would you have hurt her?” Derek asked quietly after a moment.

Stiles blinked and looked back. “Who?”

“Allison Argent, his daughter.”

“No.” Stiles immediately answered. “I use love ones against them as a hoax. I would never look to beat or kill or threaten someone who is not involved. I don’t bring in innocent collateral; and based on our records Allison is a normal girl outside of the family business backpacking through Europe at the age of sixteen.” Stiles emphasized. “Chris left the Supernatural aspect sixteen years ago—when his only daughter was born, wife lost in childbirth.”

Derek looked at him thoughtfully and Stiles frowned a little. Did Derek really think he was that barbaric? Sure, Stiles has done a lot of things in his past but he would never consider killing an innocent. He researches his case when it is absolutely confirmed beyond a reasonable doubt that his target is a threat. Nothing more. 

He shook Derek’s hand off his shoulder and continued to walk back to his hotel. It was a nice day after all and they weren’t as far as they had originally thought. Stiles watched the streets while carrying the persona of being a tourist. Taking pictures of scenery that coincidentally had suspicious looking people in them. They kinda’ stuck out like a sore thumb and carried a necklace with a particular and familiar emblem on it. 

Stiles decided to forget the fact the first time he saw this symbol was back home in Beacon Hills while he father was investigating an arson attack that almost killed eleven people. They got out okay but were rumoured to relocate shortly after.

Someone’s phone rang and Stiles looked back to see Derek scrambling as he reached around his person to find his phone. Stiles bit back a smile at the ringtone of…what was that? Nicki Minaj?! That is priceless—Stiles can’t hate because he has a few tracks of hers on his phone anyway but Derek? Priceless.

“Why do you always change my ringtone whenever I go on a mission—you know I can’t change it.” Stiles could hear distinct laughter. “Laura. What do you want?”

Derek waited for a response, his eyes dimming a little as he looked to Stiles. When this supposedly Laura finished her rant Derek handed the phone to Stiles. Stiles hesitantly took it and placed it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello Stiles. It seems that our organizations have collaborated and joined forces to take down the Argents. You will be working with my brother while I work with Deaton and feed you information. I hear you have undocumented rep? Good. We believe that the Argents have someone who has hacked into all of our files, making us predictable and in hindsight vulnerable. 

“They know my name but unless I introduce myself they will not know who I am.” Stiles informed. “We spoke to Chris Argent today, he says that he checked Lydia out of her hotel and delivered her to Kate. I’m going to need some video surveillance of the incident so we can follow up on the drivers and see if we can get some information about the location.” Stiles licked his lips, purposely avoiding Derek’s gaze as he requested, “Make sure that Allison Argent is safe while Chris Argent is in our custody. We’ve documents indicating that if one Argent is captured all instant families become targeted in fear of there being a leak. Do that for me all right?”

Laura was silent for a moment before she responded. “Of course. Please give the phone back to my brother. We will send you any information if we come across it. Deaton will be in charge of that, I am more your audio information—spur of the moment. Y’know?”

Stiles smiled as he nodded, “Of course. Here’s your brother.”

The rest of the walk to the hotel was Derek and Laura bickering over the phone once Stiles’ had handed it to him. Stiles nodded to the receptionist before hiking up the stairs to his room. Derek following behind, his voice still echoing in the empty stairwell. Stiles unlocked his room and faintly noted that Derek had finished his conversation.

“Where are you staying anyways?” Stiles asked out of the blue.

“A rundown place.” Derek replied.

“That’s changing. Go an get your things and come back here. I’ll ring the receptionist to notify her that you’ll be staying here. My agency is covering it anyways.” Derek made way to leave but Stiles stopped him for a second, gnawing his lips and looking at the Werewolf up and down. “Be careful.”

Derek’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second before his face went stone-like and he moved his way out of the room. Stiles found himself smiling a little while shaking his head and closing the door. He heard the click of an automatic lock before he went and slept in his bed.

~~~~~

Derek didn’t do partners. So finding out that he wasn’t entirely bothered by this Stiles being his partner for the remainder of this mission was a little interesting. Stiles who didn’t have a digital file in his organization’s database. Everything was digital. But Stiles was a ghost who made Chris Argent’s heart race and a slight furrow of the brow to occur in fear.  
As Derek walked to where he was booked, he cocked his head to the side, hearing footsteps on the cobblestone behind him in unison to his. Following his direction but slowing the pace enough to what they thought, ensured that Derek wouldn’t know he was being followed. Derek stuffed his hands in the leather jacket and hastened his walk—noting that the follower’s pace picked up as well. 

He felt his mouth curl around a curse before upturning into a smile as he turned the corner, hiding against it and waiting. Finally, when the person stepped out Derek quickly noted it was a man—similar built and pulling out an electric rod, whipping it to the side as it extended. Derek quickly delivered a kick to his hand and he dropped the weapon. Derek clawed his face before grabbing his shoulder and swung the man around until he bashed his body against the wall. 

“Who are you?” Derek demanded through extended teeth. The man was laughing before speaking in French, but Derek couldn’t process the words before he pressed his enemy’s face against the stone. “English. Now.” 

“Such a disobedient guard dog.” The man grinned around bloodied teeth as he tried to look back to Derek but Derek wasn’t having any of it. Crushing the man’s skull was becoming more and more of an attractive option. “If you’re here who is guarding the boy the Banshee screamed for.”

“Stiles…” Derek barely whispered before he turned the man in his grasp and settled one arm over his neck and the other one his head. The man struggled but not for long, Derek snapped his neck but not before he cooed in the man’s ear to ask for silence. When the man went limp and Derek maneuvered the body to lean against the wall sleeping off his drunk---or whatever.

Argents would be here soon anyway to clean up the mess. 

Derek ran. He bolted back where he came from. Back where Stiles was. An unreasonable amount to fear bubbling in his chest—the last thing he needed was for the ghost of Deaton’s organization to disappear just like their best Agent Lydia Martin—a day after he first met her, may Derek add.

He completely bypassed the receptionist but no one followed him so maybe she recognized him and therefore didn’t see the need to send security after him. Derek took the steps two at a time, nails scrapping the wallpaper in the stair well as he made it to Stiles’ floor. 

He heard a struggle down the hall and then suddenly silence. Derek stopped outside of Stiles door and swallowed before he knocked. “Stiles?” He called out, preparing for an attack it if wasn’t Stiles. He heard footsteps approach the door and Derek growled under his breath as the scent of Stiles’ and blood but when the door opened Stiles was smiling unscathed. 

Derek leaned to the side and noted five people on the floor unmoving, and Derek not being able to hear their heartbeats. Derek raised a brow when he looked back to Stiles—the boy was smiling. “Hey Derek! Sorry for the mess.”

“You took down five.”

“In two minutes.” Stiles confirmed. 

Derek blinked. Shaking his head a little. “We’ve been compromised. If they are hacking the system, then they know where we are. We need to move. I didn’t even make it back before I was attacked by an Argent.”

Stiles paused for a moment before tilting his head in confusion, “They sent five after me….a human….and one after you. A werewolf?” Stiles looked around as they went to pack his things once more. “Why.”

Derek shrugged, guesses on the tip of his tongues. They are werewolf hunters they know how to kill his kind. Stiles is a ghost and many opposing agencies have lost men because of Stiles without them even knowing it. Stiles is impossibly skilled to the point that Deaton wants to keep him a secret. Any of those could be right or wrong now it just depends on the lack of information presented to them. 

“Maybe Lydia is in more trouble than we thought.” Stiles whispered, fear and worry etching in his expression as his eyes searched for answers that were not there. Derek stopped, watched Stiles’ posture tighten before reaching out to provide comfort. 

Stiles, Derek had noticed, is as tactile as werewolves are despite him never really exposed to them. He would instinctually relax and lean into Derek’s touch, Derek would force himself not to read too much into it. They just met and had sex. Stiles basically said it was a misunderstanding anyway—a way to blow up pent up emotions about his missing step-sister. But until the mission was over, Derek would try to help. 

But as he looked around at the evidence in the younger man’s room…it was easy to tell that Stiles may not need his help after all.

~~~~~

Stiles really hoped that he didn’t give Derek a bad impression.

He also really hoped Derek didn’t hate him because one guy was sent after him while five invaded Stiles’ hotel room. As Stiles packed he could remember how it happened. Stiles found it a little too convenient that they had showed up after Derek’s departure—nothing could make sense right now as to why they couldn’t attack Stiles and Derek simultaneously. They were Argent enemies in their own land—they had connections to make people tremble in their boots and look the other way as they killed someone….kidnapped someone.

He threw his shirt in his suitcase harder than necessary as he sat on his bed and buried his head in his hands. Derek no doubt caught the movement for his stalking around stopped immediately, the air grew tense as Stiles tried to think. 

“Do they think I’m something?” Stiles asked, the only logical reason to send five people after him, their assumptions to the lack of his records. “Do they think I’m this, undocumented supernatural creature that they want to experiment on just because a Banshee speaks my name?”

“Maybe she spoke your name because she is a Banshee.” Derek guessed. Stiles looked up with an arched brow, “Banshee’s are warner’s of death. Perhaps when she spoke your name she was solidifying her captor’s death. Because she knew you would come for her. And she knew you would kill every last one of them if given the chance.”

Stiles blinked. He didn’t think about that. 

“Plus, you two are step-siblings.” Derek continued with a shrug, “You trust each other with information you can’t even fathom revealing to someone else. I mean. No matter how much Laura, Cora or I fought we still know each other’s darkest secrets.” Derek fidgeted a little before nodding to himself. As if reassuring himself. Flicker of hurt glazed over his eyes.

Stiles watched it as if it were a movie. The regret and anger he had directed to himself; something that led to a tragedy he had to live with forever, something he had forced upon his sister’s and felt guilty. But listening to Laura from their past conversation, she held no malice towards him so maybe it was self-blame when it wasn’t his fault? 

Stiles found himself moving until he was in front of Derek, hand slowly raised to his cheek before his palm felt itchy due to the stubble. Stiles moistened his lips and watched his reflection in Derek’s glossy eyes before he closed his own and kissed him on the lips. It was chapped and rough but Derek responded immediately, wrapping his hands around his waist and pulling Stiles close.

Before it got too heat Stiles pulled back, smiling against Derek’s lips as he looked up at the Wolf he knew he could handle if things went south real fast all while knowing he would save him if the time ever came without any hesitation. “We should probably go.” 

Stiles watched Derek look around, nose flaring as he took in the scent of blood he forgot surrounded the room. He nodded and Stiles pulled out his phone. He texted Deaton before calling Scott. “Stiles! Buddy!”

“Hey bro.” Stiles smiled into the phone, “I’m going to need a janitor at my location—the hotel was compromised. They were all taken care of but we can’t just leave it a mess. I would feel bad y’know?” Stiles shrugged when Derek raised a brow—perhaps shocked?

“No problem Stiles. Someone in our France department should be there soon. Just make sure no one can get into the room. We will get Danny to hack in and make the card invalid but if the situation would arise they get past the walls, well.” Scott trailed off but Stiles caught the hint.

“Got it. See you later Scott.” Stiles hung up and Stiles smiled at Derek, “Scott has been my friend since we were kids, he is the one who told Deaton about Lydia and I and how we would most likely accept if we were recruited.”

“Okay.” Derek nodded once and Stiles blew out a breath as he closed the latch of his bag and threw his laptop bag over his shoulder. He looked to Derek expectantly—the older man continued, “I never had the chance to go back to my hotel—we need to go there first before we can relocate to a more, below the Argents attention until we can save your sister.”

Stiles gave a weak smile and nodded. Leading the way out of the room. When Derek exited Stiles closed the door before punching the key access card. Stiles looked to Derek expectantly and the Wolf stepped forward with elongating claws and cutting through the wires, electricity spark at the tarnishing of the wires.

“Marvellously done Derek dear.” Stiles complimented with a false British accent, imitating a particularly dangerous target from his mission in London two years back. The man was also a Wolf—but not as kind as Derek. Stiles took a break after that one mission; the memory of his claw raking his skin still brings involuntary shivers down his spine.   
“Why thank you Stiles.” Derek easily parroted. Before freezing and internally groaning. Stiles just grinned that he was able to get Derek to respond that way. “Let’s go.” He finished in his usual gruff voice. Stiles hiccupped a laugh before they made their way down. 

Luckily the reception desk was empty so Stiles just slipped the key card on the desk before hightailing after Derek. 

~~~~~

Derek marched ahead, making sure that Stiles was following as he looked for an available taxi. His critical eyes searched until he flung his hand out and the vehicle stopped. The woman smiled as she stepped out and helped Stiles put his bags in the trunk. 

Derek spat out his address while looking to Stiles, frowning as he ran his knuckle over the splatter of blood disappearing into his auburn hairline. Stiles’ hand flew up to feel the blood and smiled sheepishly. Derek couldn’t help the flutter in his chest at the attractiveness.

He had really hoped he would see Stiles in action, see Deaton’s ghost haunt the Argents into absolute terror and death. The rumours of his quick and clean executed actions intrigued Derek the more he watched Stiles’ graceful form. His simple smile after delivering five people in the afterlife; how he fought like a creature Derek has heard as a child in stories. Powerful, intelligent, beautiful.

They kept eye contact throughout Derek’s internal dialogue and was pulled apart with the woman clearing her throat. Derek snapped his jaw at her with the distastefulness of being interrupted. Stiles threw his head back and laughed as they both exited the car and retrieved his stuff in the back.

Derek paid the driver and looked at the rundown building; Stiles whistled, “Looks like a horror movie set. Is the big bad going to show up?” Stiles blinked innocently at Derek.  
Derek felt a smug smile tip his lips as he responded with a puff of his chest, “I am the big bad.”

Stiles snorted, “My what big teeth you have.” He quoted with an oblivious tone. Derek’s eyes wandered to the red hoodie the boy was wearing and found himself withholding a fond smile.

“All the better to eat you with.” Derek replied seductively into Stiles direction before marching to his room like nothing happened. Pulling out his key from his pocket, smirking as he heard Stiles stumble over himself to meet Derek’s pace once more.

“I don’t have much.” Derek admitted as he let them into his room. He yanked his already packed suitcase from under his temporary bed and looked back to Stiles. “I didn’t bother to unpack when I first arrived here three weeks ago.”

“I see.” Stiles replied a little distant. Derek looked up to see Stiles’ eyes jumping to everything corner in the room as he stood still at the door. “Your set up is really different than my own.”

“We’re werewolves at my organization. We can’t stand out too much.” Derek explained.

Stiles looked over to him and arched a brow. “Who makes up your organization? I know it started out as a family thing but I know you guys have branched out. Does it end it being a Pack thing in the end?”

Derek scrunched up his face as he looked around quickly. No scents or signs of a break in. He sighed, “We will stay here until something forces us to move away. You can take the closet.”

“You never answered my question.”

Derek, thinking fast and maybe a little insensitive, closed the door behind Stiles and dragged him to the bed. Temporarily distracted, Derek watched as Stiles immediately responded as he climbed over Derek while peeling his clothes away from his skin before kneeling over Derek as naked as the day he was born. He leaned down and shucked Derek out of the layers of his clothes before he began gnawing and lapping his neck.

Derek flinched before letting out a broken groan, feeling Stiles’ long fingers curl around his cock and stroke him slowly, causing Derek to squirm and arch to get more friction. Stiles would laugh against his throat before taking one of Derek’s hands and pulling it to touch his puckered hole. Easing it in until Derek took over and prepped Stiles.   
The boy panted and whined against his skin as his rhythm on Derek’s cock staggered when Derek would crook his fingers in a certain way. Stiles hardened against Derek’s hip as he brought his leg up so his thigh was across Derek’s own and knee against his hip.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the muddled scent of arousal and lust and sex filling Derek’s nostrils—Stiles shifted so that he was on top of Derek before smoothly sinking down on Derek’s cock. Not even pausing to adjust as he leaned back and continued his thrusts, hands braced on Derek’s legs as he slid his body along Derek’s own, the sensation doing wonders to Derek as he could feel Stiles’ tighten slightly around him when he hit the younger man’s prostate. 

Faint whispers escape Stiles’ lips as he fought for control. Derek decided not to give it to him as he sat up and brought his knees to bump against Stiles’ back, driving him deeper and causing Stiles to scream un-expectantly. Derek didn’t waste time as he flipped them over so that he was on his knees and Stiles was on all fours.

Derek leaned over Stiles’ body while closing his eyes and licked up his spine before sucking on Stiles’ neck as he thrusted deeper and harder, the bed creaking at the pressure and Stiles falling apart underneath him to the point he fell from his hands to his elbow—arching his back and raising his arse higher.

Feeling heat pool into his stomach, Derek reached around and began stroking Stiles cock that was already leaking in pre-come. It seemed like the tipping point because Stiles’ threw his head back and climaxed all over Derek’s hand, the sheets and Stiles’ stomach. Cheeks flushed as his mouth shaped in an O, eyes glazed before he turned back and met Derek’s mouth in a sloppy kiss. Pushing himself back on Derek’s cock to ride out the aftershock. 

Derek pulled out and continued to kneel over Stiles, stroking himself at a hastened pace while looking down. The younger man had turned from his stomach to his back. Looking so vulnerable and submissive and completely fucked out, Derek’s head rolled and howled as he came, thick white ropes spurting out of the tip of his cock and decorating Stiles’ entire body. A bit was in his hair, fluttering over his eyelashes that surrounded Bambi doe eyes and over his plump swollen lips. Some cascaded down onto the freckled chest and pooled at his belly while the rest gathered in the genital area. Derek looked down at the Stiles and grinned like a wolf who just won a fight. Prideful that he made his bedmate look like that.

His eyes darkened as he watched Stiles take his come that lingered on his lips into his mouth, before he leaned down and devoured the taste for himself. Weak rutting against his aftershock before the both of them fell asleep.

~~~~~

It was early next morning that Stiles got some information from Deaton. He had his knees to his chest as he sat in Derek’s oversized black v-neck and his own boxer briefs. He gnawed at his nail as his eyes watched the video surveillance in a loop to see if he could find anything to work with.

Lydia was gagged by a cloth so that would make sense as to why she couldn’t use her supersonic screams and Black Canary her way out of this. Based on the rough looking CCTV system, they chose a spot specifically that had a get away blind spot. He double clicked the license and noted that it was indeed the plates that belonged to Kate’s vehicle herself.   
Stiles’ eyes shot to the corner of the screen as he upper screened he newest employees that would be helping Kate based on earlier collected surveillance. His picture was a little blurry as it was taken from behind the man. He wore a tan trench coat with the collars popped in hopes to hide his face. It didn’t. He wore a bandage around his head and some of his brunette hair brushed against the front, tinting red. His eyes were cold and calculated, just like Chris Argent now that he thinks about it.

Stiles picked up his cup and brought it to his lips, the coffee a comforting steam against his cheeks as he continued his research.

Stiles’ turned his eyes to his name. Gabriel Valack. Once a chief medical officer in a mental hospital that was rumoured to consist mainly on supernatural creatures. He performed tests and surgeries on them in hopes to amplify their power—but he generally failed. He had stopped after a while, especially with the deaths of his common subjects, Banshees. A popular case that went public forcing him into hiding—though the young girl’s name was not released to the press because she was a minor and it was against her adoptive parent’s wishes. Stiles had access to the file.

Her name was Meredith Walker—who lived a normal life. In fact so normal that Stiles would place his money that she didn’t understand what was happening to her once her powers started to manifest. She was committed to the mental hospital Valack had worked at—after discovering a new theory he tested it on her. Precognitive—and it almost drove her to her death and left her insane. Her actions and tendencies became more hostile so Valack had told Meredith’s family that she will remain in the facility. Neither of them seemed to know that their daughter was slowly dying. And when she finally bit the dust, Valack ran. 

Stiles examined the pictures, her eyes were dull and pale as if she was blinded. Puncture wounds on both her temples. Bruises around her neck, wrists and ankles—  
Stiles sucked in a breath as he exited the page. Breathing out slowly, he continued reading the statement attached to Valack’s file. He agreed to work with Kate Argent on her newly obtained Banshee if he has no ties to it whatsoever is the situation goes downhill. His ‘ground-breaking’ research just caught Kate’s disgusting attention and threw a line to the man who was curious and grabbed hold. He was desperate after he had written his book to hide his sins, dubbed the Dread Doctors.

And Lydia is caught in the middle of it. 

He didn’t even process he was fuming until the cup he had reached for earlier shattered, shards and coffee splattering everywhere but luckily his desk. He cried out against the heat as he dropped the cup. Coffee and blood streaming down his hands. 

The commotion woke up Derek, the poor man who looked like he hadn’t slept since arriving in France bolted upright with his teeth and claws sprouted. His shiny and pretty blue eyes falling on Stiles before he gained control and wrapped the sheet around his waist. He walked up to Stiles and picked up the shards carefully with his claws.

“I take it you found something.”

“Yeah.” He replied hoarsely, tears of anger threatening to fall as he felt strain in his throat and chest. “That bastard is going to pay. They all are.”

Derek turned his attention to the file. “Gabriel Valack? He’s affiliated with Kate?” Derek looked up to Stiles. Stiles met his gaze and nodded slowly. “Valack experiments illegally on supernatural creatures Stiles.” His voice panic as he continues to read the file Stiles had just finished with. “Oh…this is not good.”

“We need to get Lydia out of there.”

“We don’t know where there is yet.”

“We have Danny hacking into all of the regions video surveillance. I’ll tell him to keep an eye out for this van. He’ll call us when he finds something.” A raping chime filled the room, Stiles sighed, “Derek your phone.”

Derek turned for his phone, siting on the bed and pulling on his briefs as he answered. “Laura—”

“Get out of there now!” Derek and Stiles shared a look but before either of them could react, six people flanked their room. 

Stiles’ saw his chance to relieve some steam.

~~~~~

Derek watched the Ghost Agent jump the first two men, legs wrapped around the man’s stomach while unsheathing the other man’s own hunting blade before stabbing it into the second guy’s neck before twisting it. He dropped to the ground and immediately kicked his feet out and swept it under the other man’s. He knelt forward and reeled back his hand before using all his force and stabbing the man’s eye.

He turned and threw the hunting blade at the third man approaching who stupidly used their hand to block it, Stiles didn’t hesitate and Derek watched as Stiles ripped the knife from the man’s hand and quickly followed it with a brute uppercut, knife digging through the skin of his chin. Stiles kicked the man away before he stood and blocked two punches from the fourth man and finished it off with a blow to the throat. Causing the man to choke and fall to the ground.

Stiles quickly took the gun with the silencer on it and shot the remaining two. Their blood splattering on Stiles’ face and Derek watched as the younger man’s breath fell from between his lips just as normal as it had been before they were attacked. 

“DEREK!” Laura’s voice screamed, snapping both he and Stiles’ out of his trance.

“I’m here.” He replied.

“Are you all right?” She asked bewildered. Scared. 

“Yeah. Stiles took care of it.”

“Stiles?” Laura asked shocked. “By himself.”

“Yeah.” Derek said (not dreamily, no of course not), “It was beautiful.”

Derek didn’t say anything when he noticed Stiles’ cheeks were in a high flush.

~~~~~

Stiles was giddy, though he did well to school his features. Derek liked what he saw. Even some of their special agents who knew Stiles during the training grounds were a little squeamish about how violent Stiles’ performance was. Some even accused him of not having humanity.

But he found humanity in bringing justice to those who wilfully ignored supernatural creature’s humanistic side. He found his rightfulness committing the acts no on else could do but was crucial to be done. 

And Derek found it beautiful

“We just finished looking through the files. We were going to call Stiles’ hacker to see if he could find more footage on this one van that took Agent Martin away. Relay the message Laura. What I need from you now is facial recognition of these men.”

Stiles went to clean himself off, watching in the reflection of the mirror as Derek took pictures of each of the men Stiles took down. He could hear the impressive whistle that made Stiles duck down to hide a smile as he scrubbed the blood off his hands and arms with soap and water. 

“Argent goonies. Probably sent for a retrieval. Check the area to see if there is anyone else.” Derek nodded and threw his clothes from the night before to check. Stiles was finishing wiping off the blood from his cheek when he heard an animalistic whine.

Stiles ran to the front and saw Derek on the ground, phone out of his reach as he writhed against the injury in his shoulder. Black veins inking its way along Derek’s quickly paling skin. “Oh God.” Stiles continued to spew in panic as he took the phone between his shoulder and ear so that he could use both hands to drag the Werewolf back inside.

“Laura what do I do!?” Stiles demanded. Yanking the shirt off the Wolf and holding his cheeks. Stiles refused to spit out the bile in this throat as he looked at the injury. 

“I need you to remove the bullet, get a new one from the enemy’s gun and empty the Wolfsbane from the capsule before burning it on the wound. The antidote is the poison. Stiles quickly!” 

Stiles put down the phone and scrambled to do as she said. He couldn’t bring himself to wonder if there wasn’t dead bodied with full magazines in their gun—if it was a sniper shot they wouldn’t have access to the bullets to heal Derek and Stiles didn’t want his death on his conscious.

“C’mon Derek.” He pleaded as he burned the Wolfsbane and slammed the ask on the wound. The wolf howled in pain but low and behold the wound began to heal. “Oh thank God.” Stiles whispered. 

Stiles helped Derek to the bed to rest. The same janitor team from his hotel came in a couple of hours later while Stiles was watching Derek sleep and cleaned the entire room. The smell of bleach and blood mixing into a clean scent as the bodies were carried out. Three hours into Derek’s rest the team was done and waved at Stiles before leaving.

Stiles continued to watch Derek rest. Hoping that soon he would wake up again.

~~~~~

The man turned away from the strawberry blonde girl before closing the door. His face was grim as he looked at the blonde woman who was waiting outside. “Six of your men is dead.”

The woman curse colourfully, “Was it the Ghost? This Stiles?” Her accent rich and her voice angry. “What is he?”

“Human. A very well trained human.” The man replied. “The Banshee whispered your men’s name on her lips. Deeming them killed by him. If you want this done, have it done fast. I do not want to be here when he arrives.”

“He cannot hide anymore. And when we find him, it is his name on the Banshee’s lips guaranteeing death.” 

He watched the woman walk away in a fury and the man sighed disappointed, “The only death on his lips is the blood of his enemies. Not his own.” 

~~~~~

Kate was livid.

Men that she has trained, eleven in total to retrieve one measly boy, were dead in the matter of minutes. Training gone to waste, blood sweat and tears down the drain, the boy remaining a mystery.

“Boss.” A voice chimed. 

“What!” She boomed angrily.

The man flinched, reaching around his neck and gave the camera to Kate. Kate snatched it from the man’s hand and flickered through the photos. Gasping at the scandalous positions she found her target from the bar in with a freckled, pale skinned twink. She continued through the photos of the two’s sexual encounter before there were some morning ones. The morning specifically of this boy taking down her men with little to no problems. The mongrel standing behind with a phone to his ear. Lust and hunger evident in the features of the Wolf. 

“This is Stiles.” She surmised seething. Stopping on a single close up photo of him. His hair was wild and his eyes were wide and brown, nose was upturned and freckles danced on his skin. More prominent than the first photos. “This is our ghost.”

“Yeah Boss.” 

Kate looked up and smiled at the man, recognizing him as Matt—a man she caught stalking her niece in Europe before she took his photo skills to better use in scoping out their enemy and environment. 

“Peek-a-Boo….I see you.” She smiled. “Give this to the techs. Get a file started on him. Put a mark on his head—I want him alive.”

~~~~~

Stiles groaned as he stretched. Derek’s arms tightening around him and Stiles looked up to see the man was awake and smiling at him. “You saved me.” He murmured leaning down to kiss Stiles.

“Of course. I couldn’t have you dying on me. I would feel awfully alone.” Stiles sighed, “I don’t know how I would fair against the entirety of the Argent organization either if I was to infiltrate it to find Lydia. God I hope she’s okay. I hope Valack didn’t get his grimy hands on her yet.”

“We will get her out.”

Stiles found himself believing Derek.

It was a couple of hours later that Danny messaged them, sending them footage of the van that had taken Lydia. The plates ran in the system: GA-075-KA—belonging to the founders of the Argent organization and is seen on many scenes of supernatural disappearances. Most people no doubt turn a blind eye to them since the Argents basically run the country due to the corruption in its system. 

There was also a video to the email—he opened it and Stiles witness an interrogation between Deaton and Chris. A woman in the background with eyes flaring red. Derek’s Alpha maybe—Laura? Chris was admitting to helping Kate take Lydia but once she was in the car he withdrew from the case. He also revealed he had no idea Kate had hired Gabriel Valack and if he had known he would not have helped Kate take Lydia. The wolf in the room deemed it to be true.

Valack’s reputation was one that even made the Argents weary—his third eye granting him abilities to make people believe they are seeing someone who is not really there but really and truly him. The mental manipulation leaving everyone weak unable to protect themselves as he traveled in your mind. Or so the Argents claim.

The third attachment was a warning, furrowing his brow as he clicked onto it. Eyes widening and jaw dropping. “Shit.”

Derek was by his side in a moment. He sucked in a breath at the Argent’s file Danny hacked into. A file the Argent’s created about Stiles. There was a picture of him, his sole name STILES written in bold as his appearance was written down accordingly or in estimates. Stiles looked through and noticed other than that they had nothing but one comment: EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. WANTED ALIVE.

Derek and Stiles shared a look and a smile bloomed on his lips. Derek growled, “Stiles no.”

“What, come on. This is the perfect way to get Lydia out of there. We can call the rest of the team and have them as back up.” Stiles groaned in frustration, “Derek I need to do this! I need to get Lydia out of there.”

Derek looked contemplative. “Not without me.”

“They will kill you Derek.”

“They won’t.” He confidently replied. “I’m coming with you. We’re going to get Lydia out of there and we are going to get the team together to do so.”

Stiles nodded before reached over the chair and latching his arms around Derek’s neck, pulling him into a greedy kiss. “After this I totally wanna’ date you.” He moaned into Derek’s mouth in which was open in a laugh. Derek lifted Stiles off the chair and bent down a little to grab the back of Stiles’ thigh. Yanking his boxers down before hoisting Stiles up to wrap his legs around Derek who smashed them against the wall.

Stiles crowed with laughter as Derek let go of one of Stiles’ legs and brought his fingers to his mouth. Spitting on it before using to poke at Stiles’ entrance. His other hand keeping Stiles up and spreading his cheeks for better access. Not as comfortable as their previous encounters but Stiles was up for trying new things.   
Derek using his own spit, slicked Stiles’ inner walls before pulling back and spitting in his hands again and slicking up his cock. Positioning it in, passing the ring of muscles before he gripped the wall, making sure to hook Stiles’ legs over his arms so the back of his knees were in the crook of Derek’s elbow. He pushed Stiles against the wall and used it as a prop to slide Stiles’ up and down his cock. Stiles moaning and gasping above him as he suckled on the pink nipples—teething it before taking it into his mouth continuously all while keeping pace with his thrusts.

Stiles had his hands on Derek’s shoulders, expression flickering between happiness and pleasure. “So—” He grunted against a thrust, eyes blown, “Tell me about yourself.”  
Derek couldn’t help the warped laugh that escaped his throat before looking to Stiles, “Really? You want to know now?” He emphasized this point with a strong thrust. Stiles mewled before he nodded. Determined to learn about Derek. Derek sighed but conceded, “I’m a middle child. Laura is my Alpha and Cora is a Beta like me. Cora is currently on a mission in South America.”

“I’ve…oh God….never been.” Stiles leaned forward so his forehead was touching Derek’s. His hot breath invading Derek’s nose, smelling like morning breath and a bit of Derek—woodsy musk. It had Derek’s wolf preening that his bed mate was smelling so much like him. His wolf getting tired of Derek’s one-night stands from his past missions and wanted someone who would smell like claim. It was territorial, Derek knew but he couldn’t help it but to agree. 

Derek continued at a leisurely pace, nails gripping and indenting holes into the drywall as Stiles slid along his cock. His legs long and bouncing with motion. “Are you sure you want to continue?” Derek questioned breathless, “We seem a bit distracted.”

“No no….we can…” A whine escaped Stiles’ throat. “After.” He finally pleaded. 

Derek smiled against Stiles’ skin as he picked up the pace. Stiles’ vocalization agreeing with he idea as Derek leaned forward so his stomach caged Stiles’ own angry red flushed cock against Stiles’ belly. The friction causing pre-come to dribble out and Stiles’ nails dug into Derek’s skin. Before he could whisper a warning he was climaxing. 

The scent of them mixed, so strong and potent in his nostrils, Derek climaxed shortly after. Becoming weak kneed but sucking bruises onto Stiles’ pale neck. He moved his arms from underneath Stiles’ spread legs and the younger man’s legs fell to Derek’s feet. Limbs becoming tangled as they shared a sloppy kiss between pants from their high. 

Derek picked Stiles’ up bridle style and carried him to their bed. He lid down beside Stiles’ form and nuzzled into his neck. “So.” Stiles chuckled, “tell me about yourself.”

“I am twenty-six. Been working for this organization since I was eighteen. I have a degree in Architect and Theatre. I’ve been to Spain twice—it’s really nice there.” Derek dragged his fingers along Stiles’ lithe body as he continued, “My favourite colour is black, my favourite meal is asparagus with potato and steak. Rare. And I currently have an attraction for a lithe man with Bambi doe eyes.”

Stiles grinned. “He sounds awesome.”

“So far.” Derek agreed. “But besides how great he is at sex, I don’t know much about him.”

“Well. Maybe I could help you about your mystery man. I’m twenty-three. I graduated with a specialist in Criminology and a major supernatural studies and politics. I have a sister. As you know, which is kinda’ awkward because I used to have the biggest crush on her as a kid. But I grew out of it and in return she started paying more attention to me. We became close friends before figuring out our parents was going to marry each other. Thing became simple. I like pizza but I don’t like anchovies—one time I dropped an entire pizza on the floor, I cried so hard. Scott and Lydia were laughing at me. My favourite colour is red—easy to hide the blood.” He snickered to himself. “My favourite book series is Harry Potter and I currently have a hard-on for Mr. Tall Dark and Broody and I’m hoping to date him very soon. Good?”

“Great.” Derek mumbled snuggling into Stiles. The guarantee that there will be a future with him warmed his chest. 

~~~~~

Stiles woke up sticky and sore to the sound of his phone ringing. He flailed for the device before answering it groggily. “Good morning to you too Stiles.” Scott replied happily. “We have more information and we managed to hack into Argent files and get rid of your information. Danny added the hacking touch that they cannot input more information on you.”

“That’s good.” He grumbled, pulling on Derek’s shirt and walking to the bathroom. “What information do you have for me?”

“A possible location.” Scott replied, Stiles immediately perking up. “We were going to do a video call once everyone has gathered. So make yourself decent.”

Stiles smirked, “What makes you think I’m not.”

“Puh-lease.” Scott snorted. “I’ve seen Derek’s file. You must be an idiot to think I would not even guess you would tap that.”

“Oh I have.” Stiles replied instantly, “Many times. In many different positions that I could advice would work wonders on your lovely gal Kira.” Scott moaned in embarrassment. “I’m serious Scott. Derek is great—I actually like him too….I dunno…” Stiles sat on the sink, his bare skin was cold against the porcelain, “I see a relationship with him.”

“Wow.” Scott breathed after a moment. “Are you straying from one night stands and finally becoming a big boy?” Scott laughed when Stiles growled. “Not bad, learn that from your bae? No, I’m serious Stiles. This is a big step and I’m stoked for your bro…you need some stability in your life. I’ve been trying to get you to break that habit for months. One night stands aren’t good in our career fields.”

“I know.” Stiles mumbled, squirming against the ache in his body. “I told him I would like to date him when this mission is over.”

“And?” Scott asked anxiously.

Stiles smiled, Scott and he barely spoke about relationships because Stiles never had a serious one and both Scott and Kira were surprisingly quiet about their time together. Stiles looked out the bathroom door to see Derek still sleeping, the sun rays dancing across his naked body—the white sheets wrapped around to give some decency. 

“I am happy to say he is equally excited as I am to start this relationship.” Stiles reported. Scott cheered in his ear. “Wow buddy, it’s like you had no faith in me.”

“I did!” Scott assured.

There was silence between the two and Stiles found himself frowning. “I just feel bad y’know? Lydia is captured by the Argents and here I am romancing this amazing guy when my priorities should be her. I promised to rescue her if something bad happens to her and I’m stuck in a hotel room with little to go on.”

“No buddy…no…Lydia would love it that you’ve found someone. You know she always scolds you when you come back from a mission with hickies and a limp but no partner. She wants you to be happy. I mean, I doubt it was her plan that you would find someone while she was taken but she won’t see it as a major problem. Especially since he knows everything so you don’t have to hide anything from him and he’s helping you find her.”

Stiles rubbed his eyes. Scott was good with his words—way better than he was from High School. This guy couldn’t comfort Stiles with relationships because he was to engrossed in his own. Stiles did not want to hear about how shiny her hair was or how she felt around his cock. Huh, maybe that’s why Scott was so private with Kira. 

“Anyway Stiles. We will video call you two and come up with an action plan. Make sure you’re decent!” Stiles laughed as Scott hung up the phone.

Stiles took the phone from his ear and brought it back to the bed with him. As he placed it on the night table he sat down and groaned, yelping when Derek wrapped his arms around his waist and brought him back—back flanking Derek’s chest as they were spooning. Stiles hymned and burrowed himself deeper into Derek’s hug.

“They have something?”

“Yeah. They will call when everyone arrives. Scott says in a bit so that may be a few hours.”

“Good…so we have time.” Derek mused and Stiles could feel his hard cock against him. 

Stiles groaned and shook his head. “I can’t. Too sore.” He watched Derek give him a contemplative look before he ducked his head down and traced his tongue against Stiles’ chest.

Tongue twirling against his nipples before continuing down and following the line of his happy trail. He delivered kisses at the base of his genitalia area. Derek’s rough tongue then dragged up the base of Stiles’ cock and swirled around the tip before licking the underside of his cock on the way down. Stiles’ hips canted forward. Derek’s hand rested at Stiles’ waist and he leaned forward again and gently kissed Stiles’ shaft, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks before his jaded eyes locked with Stiles’ own, Stiles found himself reaching down and rubbing his knuckle against Derek’s strong cheekbone. 

Derek leaned into the touch slightly before running his tongue along Stiles’ shaft once more. Causing it to become wetter, glistening with saliva as Derek’s mouth worked at making the cock more rigid. Stiles’ eyes were no doubt blow as his fingers traveled to Derek’s hair and curled some of his locks between his pale lithe digits. 

Finally Derek took him into his mouth, he leaned over to provide himself with better access—so it could slip easier down his throat. Derek moaned around his cock and the vibration make Stiles’ shiver as his skin became covering in goosebumps. His jaw dropped as a miniature gasp escaped his lips and his head fell to his shoulder. He downturned his eyes once more to watch Derek hollow his cheeks, Stiles could feel his tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft, still a little dry—the roughness causing Stiles’ to pant. Derek’s lips closed over his and wrapped around the base of his cock each time he bobbed his head. 

Stiles whimpered as he thrusted up a little, Derek pulling back a little before carefully wrapping his hand around Stiles’ cock and stroking and twisting his fingers around the base of his cock while he continued to bob his head and sucking the parts of Stiles’ cock that was covered by Derek’s hand. His fingers were heavy and tight around Stiles’ cock and it was the perfect combination alongside the heat of Derek’s mouth and tongue. His other hand traveled and drifted along Stiles’ waist and hip before traveling down to his thigh to push it away. Derek shifted a little into the abandoned space, the widening of Stiles’ legs causing more sensations as Derek continued working Stiles. 

Stiles couldn’t process how over sensitized he felt as Derek’s hand drifted around his inner thigh, his hips before settling at his thigh. The hand preoccupied with his cock drifted down and cupped Stiles’ balls. Stiles whined and bowed his back, pushing his hips forward resulting in the deeper feeling of Derek’s mouth on him. “D—Der…Der I’m gonna’—God!” He fisted the sheets with one hand and tugged Derek’s hair with the other.

Derek didn’t stop, in fact he hollowed his cheeks and tightened his grip on Stiles’ inner thigh and balls. Stiles let out a wreak groaned as he climaxed into Derek’s mouth. He watched through hazy vision as Derek swallowed some of it before pulling off, the white ropes of come falling from his lips before he lapped up the rest of it. 

“You’re so perfect.” Derek mumbled as he slid up next to Stiles and kissed him on the mouth, the saltiness of his own release touched his tongue as he took Derek’s own tongue deeper in his mouth. The birds outside chirped as the world around them woke up, Stiles smiled into the kiss.

“It takes a perfect person to find the perfect person.”

“I’m not perfect.” Derek murmured quietly.

“I’m not either.” Stiles simply replied. Brushing his knuckles against Derek’s cheek. “I’m hungry…do you have something we can make?”

“Sure. Go shower and get dressed. Last thing we need if for the call to occur while we are both very naked. I mean, it’s a great view but I want it to myself.” Stiles chuckled at Derek before getting to his wobbly feet and gathering some clothes before going to the bathroom to shower.

It was quick as he rubbed the soap into his flushed red skin and the shampoo through his messy hair. He stayed in there until the hot water turned cold before stepping out and dressing in black jeans and a forest green shirt. He was drying his hair as he exited and was greeted by the smell of grilled cheese. He let out a delighted squeak as he abandoned the towel on the bathroom sink and rushed to the kitchen to see Derek standing in his boxers. Derek turned and Stiles flushed at his appearance—his hair was a mess like fingers were pulling at it (which is what happened) and his lips were plump from being used and his ears, neck and cheeks were flushed. 

Derek smiled at him before turning back to the food, his tattoo catching Stiles’ attention. “what does it mean?”

“Hm?” 

“Your tattoo, what does it mean?”

“Oh…it’s a Triskelion. It can mean many of things. It’s Celtic.” Derek supplied as Stiles’ eyes followed the pattern of the three legs curling and radiating from the center. “A symbol of life. For me, it means two things. Alpha, Beta and Omega—for my Pack as well as Past, Present, and Future. I got it after the death of my parents.” Derek’s actions slowed a little before picking up once more. 

“I contemplated getting one.” Stiles offered, eyes going distant as he remembered the one his mother had. “My mother had one you see. She wore it on her hip like a weapon in a hilt. It wasn’t anything special—it was actually quite common but my mother loved it. It was a water coloured owl’s feather of pearl whites and turtle dove purple and light greys that when it broke off it turned to stars—a quote was under it.”

“What did it say?” Derek asked, Stiles jumped a little before giving a weak smile. 

“Something cheesy. I think it was you’re the wind beneath the wings. She chose the stars and owl because she always loved the night over the day. I thought to get a similar one…to honour her memory.” Stiles shrugged like it was the silliest thing he ever said but Derek was watching him, the looked for his damp eyes told Stiles that he understood. That he would never judge. 

Stiles found comfort in that.

“Here.” Derek said after giving Stiles a moment. He slid the plate of grilled cheese in front of him. “We didn’t have as much as I thought so this is what we got. Now. I’m going to go shower—I’ll be back in a minute to join you.”

Stiles nodded and waited. Picking at the grilled cheese, placing small crusts into his mouth. It was moments later before Derek re-entered the room and took his place across from Stiles. Taking the sandwich into his hands and devouring it. Stiles was close to follow.

They sat on the couch watching movies, cuddled close to one another after they finished eating when their expected call came in. Stiles answered it and on his laptop revealed Deaton and Laura in the conference room at Stiles’ headquarters. Stiles’ eyes flickered over the attending guest. Scott and Kira was there as well as a dark skinned man, a blonde girl with a fangful smile and a boy with angelic curls. 

“Stiles.” Laura began, “This is Boyd, Erica and Isaac.” She introduced by waving at them before sighing. “We noticed some information was leaked on you and based on what your people tell me you will use it as an opportunity to infiltrate the Argent organization to save your sister. And knowing Derek, he will accompany you. What we are going to discuss is how the rest of us will be of assistance. As you know we both have departments in France as a counter-attack against the Argents. But they are not as skilled as our headquarter agents…us. The lot of us will be coming to assist you after this meeting is adjourned.”

Stiles and Derek nodded along. Stiles watched Isaac play with a butterfly knife while Boyd used his own claws to clean the dirt under his nails. Erica flipped her blond hair over her shoulder and leaned forward, the low cut of her shirt as well as the table against her front, popped her breasts over. 

“Erica.” Derek warned with a hint of a growl on his lips. Stiles smacked his arm before smiling back at the blond. 

“So we can assume you will meet with us here within the next forty-eight hours?” Deaton and Laura nodded. Stiles looked to Derek and arched a brow, “So we continue with surveillance and tailing some Argents—see if we can get some questions as to how my information got leaked.”

“Could be from the man who shot me?” Derek suggested, Stiles tossed his head from side to side in contemplation. “I mean. He ran off after he shot me. He had a camera around his neck—he must have taken the photographs—oh…” Derek trailed off and Stiles arched a brow.

“Derek?”

“What if he knows?” 

“Knows?” Stiles prompted. 

“About us…” Derek looked horrified. Stiles’ brow furrowed as he tried to recollect anything this spy might have gathered on them. 

Stiles gasped in realization. “They wouldn’t.” Stiles growled, “That’s private! What kind of sleaze would lurk around trying to take photos of people? Is he a P.I? Is he working for Argents? Oh my God, he is, isn’t he! God this is so infuriating!”

“Stiles calm down. We will make them pay—we’re good at that aren’t we?”

The grin on Derek’s face was feral and Stiles felt one creeping on his lips as his eyes glinted with a brief image of making the man suffer by destroying his favourite weapon. The camera. “Oh hell yeah we are.” Stiles then looked to Laura and Deaton, “Have Danny see who it was—I don’t care how but he is the first to break.”

“From there he might reveal Kate Argent’s location.” Deaton finished thoughtfully. Stiles nodded as Deaton continued, “But we cannot guarantee and answer. Chris Argent came in today while we have our team shadowing and protecting his daughter. We informed him it was your request and I feel with the circumstantial kindness we are showing he may help us with finding weaknesses. So far we have three potential locations we will raid when your secondary team comes in.”

“What if we are caught before then.” Derek countered, although he didn’t sound very concerned. 

“Pretend to be hostage until we arrive.” Deaton reasoned.

“Yeah Der.” Laura drawled, “Play dead.” That caused an eruption of giggles from the other Betas—loving the dog jokes but seeing how Derek bristles Stiles is going to go ahead and assume it’s an overused one. His lips curled back but before he could let out a snide comment Stiles ran his hand up and down his arm in comfort. Derek instantly relaxed into his touch—causing his team on screen to gape.

Stiles flashed them a cocky grin. “Now. Onto the plans of what to do when Lydia is retrieved. We can’t leave the organization standing—it’s inhumane with constant bounties spitting out to agents who have no morality or troubles killing other species. Claiming that annihilating them is the right thing to do. To think what they would do to Lydia if they haven’t done anything already…or Derek or even Kira. I can’t let an organization like this stand.”

“Stiles we may not have the power…”

“Bullshit!” Stiles spat, fury boiling in his belly, “You call me when things are overly fucked. Let me do my job!” There was silence and Scott had his hand slapped over his mouth with wide eyes as his gaze bounced between the people in the room and Stiles’ direction. Stiles took in a deep breath before continuing calmly, “Lydia is in danger and could end up being another countless victim to the Argents because she is a little different. I can’t have that on my chest or my mind….I can’t handle the memory of promising to save her and then she dies. I can’t imagine the look on our parents face when I have to go back home and tell them Lydia is dead because I failed to protect her—because the pain wouldn’t be nearly as enough as it would be in reality. It’s not right to let them get away with this when they have caused all this much pain.”

Laura looked away, not so subtly rubbing under her eyes to get rid of any evidence of tears. Derek went rigid under him and Stiles couldn’t think of how he looked right now or how Derek was looking to him. He kept his eyes on Deaton as the man looked at him with a blank stare and hands folded in front of his mouth. Suddenly he sighed and leaned back, arms resting on the table—a short nod his only response.

“We will take care of it Stiles. We all will. Like we always do.”

Stiles gave it a moment, “Tell me what you got.”

~~~~~

Stiles takes a gander of Derek as he goes through the files his sister had sent him that had covered their discussion. Stiles walked over before plastering his body against Derek’s side and his eyes scanned the words. A sliver of doubt rising in his chest as he sighed. “Would this be too risky?”

“Everything is a risk when it comes to the Argent’s. We just have to make sure we are prepared for the worst of it.” Derek replied while looking down to Stiles who still hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen—his mind scattering the words like they were blown in a tornado, constantly spinning.

Derek leaned down to press a kiss on Stiles’ temple before closing the laptop. Stiles let out a diligent sound but Derek just stood up and went into the kitchen so he could get them both a bottle of water. “We know what is going to happen. We just need to do simple surveillance until the team comes.”

“I know. But the closer we get the more agitated I feel. There is a constant itching under my skin and I need to let off the excess energy.” Stiles explained.

Derek thought about it for a moment. “Want to go dancing?”

“Dancing!?” Stiles asked bewildered. “Derek, why would we go dancing? We need to do surveillance.”

“And we will, it is a club owned by a man named Harris. He is the chemist assistant for the Argents. Whenever they need a gas leak or a fire to look like it was an accident or anything else—he would create a formula or plan. The supernatural creatures have lost a lot of their homes and some lives when Harris is involved.”

Stiles felt his lips curl before it replaced it with a tauntingly sweet smile, “I hope you have something nice to wear Der.” He finished his sentence with a smack of his lips while his eyes danced along Derek’s frame.

After Stiles changed into a red button down folded at the sleeves and a particularly tight pair of jeans to show of his ahem assets; he hungrily eyed Derek who walked out of the bathroom with damply wild hair, a deep white V-neck Henley and painted on blue jeans. Derek grinned wolfishly and pulled Stiles in close of a rough kiss with more nipping than usual. Stiles moaned into it before pushing forward for their plans. 

When they left the room they were staying in, they clung onto each other—playing the fool and Stiles was suddenly reminded of the time he had seen his mother and father like this while he ran ahead. Hearing his parents’ laughter fall behind him as they walked close, gazing into each other’s eyes like they will fall in love all over again. A desired thing he wishes Derek and him would have….holy shit!

Stiles stumbled and Derek was quick to catch him, concern etching his face. “You okay?” His voice was gruff but Stiles looked past that and into the tick of Derek’s eyebrow, the pout of his lips and flickering eyes looking for injuries. Stiles just smiled in return and continued making his way to the club with Derek by his side. 

When they got there, the lights were flashing and the music was drowning. Swimming in Stiles’ sensory as he leaned closer to Derek. Eyes searching for their prey. “Okay.” Derek breathed in his ear as he bowed his head and inhaled Stiles’ scent and placing his large and strong on his hips as he swayed them. Stiles turned his head slightly, eyes drawing to the bar. “Over there is Harris. The one in the glasses?” Stiles nodded, “Meet me in the back.” 

Stiles felt the heat of Derek’s body leave his back but he paid little attention to it as he dodged the crowd and made his way to the back door. He opened the door and gave a sparing look around before he slipped through. Stiles stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at the Eiffel Tower shining brightly as if it was the way out of this dingy slum of an alley way. Lydia always did want to come to Paris, when they were kids and they were comfortable enough with one another after their parents married, Lydia admitted to him that she wanted to be proposed to under the lights of the Tower. Stiles thought it was sappy. Then again, Lydia was always a romantic.

He was torn from his thoughts as the door behind him banged open. The same door he exited just moments ago. Stiles whirled around and watched Harris fall to the group, blood dripping from his lips and Derek standing over him with a red glint in his eye.

“Harris.” Stiles drawled. Walking up to the man before crouching down. “Where is my sister.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand, and anyone would know this. The man refused to answer and Stiles looked up to Derek before shifting a little. “You see. Usually we would play with you to get the answers we want, but we simply do not have the patience or the time for this bullshit. We’ve already asked nicely once. A smart man like yourself should know we will not ask such things again.”

The man was a mess, eyes shining with unshed tears but brows were furrowed with anger, a sneer permanent on his face as blood seethed along his teeth and lips. His glasses lens’ were broken and his clothes disarray. No doubt in a brawl before he came out to meet Stiles in the alley way. “Va te faire foutre.”

Stiles giggled like a child, excited for what was about to come and getting a thrill out of the flash of fear in Harris’s eyes. “Oh this is going to be so much fun.” Stiles’ eyes locked with Derek and with a swift nod, Derek’s grin turned feral.

It didn’t take long after that to figure out what they needed to know. 

And when they got back to where they were staying, Stiles thoroughly and enthusiastically gave his thanks to Derek. 

~~~~~

It was the next day that Derek and Stiles reported their findings to Laura and Deaton. When Stiles finished regurgitating what they had learned from Harris the night before, Laura gave a thoughtful look before pivoting her body so she faced Deaton. “It is the information that we needed.”

“Indeed, and they make a remarkable team.” Deaton replied with.

“So does that mean we can move out?” Stiles asked hopefully. It feels like it has taken longer than needed and they were wasting time. A sense of worry and itchiness picked as his skin and even though he tried to ignore it, it was a constant. He couldn’t help but feel Lydia was facing more danger than assumed. He and Derek needed to bring Lydia home.  
Deaton and Laura shared a conversation with their eyes before nodding and giving their orders. “This is a recon retrieval mission. Take out only those necessary, obstacles that would prevent you from achieving your objective in finding Lydia. We will be on standby for your report. And Stiles. Be careful.” 

“You too Der.” Laura added softly. Both men nodded before ending the call. 

Stiles turned in his chair and looked to Derek, the moment of silence played out before Stiles breathed out, queasiness knotting in his stomach as he gnawed his lips. “What’s the plan?”

“We infiltrate, steal someone’s badge that will grant us access to the lower grounds, grab Lydia and get out. We arm ourselves fully, we cannot risk being injured. I don’t want you hurt.” Derek finished quietly, running his knuckle along Stiles’ cheekbone. The sensation and movement immediately calming the younger man as he leaned into the touch with a soft breath escaping his lips. His eyes fluttered shut momentarily before he opened them and caught Derek’s expression. It was by far the gentlest expression Stiles’ had ever seen and Stiles wanted to relish in it. 

Humming at the back of his throat, Stiles linked his arms behind Derek’s neck and slightly shifted his body until Derek got the hint and hoisted Stiles’ legs around his waist. Their kiss was unheated and lacked the usual desperation; it was chaste and tender, their lips slotting in a semi-slowed pace while Derek worked to rid Stiles of his pajama pants. A whine escaped Stiles’ throat and was swallowed by Derek whose movements hadn’t faltered and worked to rid himself of clothes as well. 

When Derek pulled back, his eyes searched Stiles’ face, Stiles swallowed and nodded. Taking that as acceptance, Derek continued on his calm path of exploration as if it was their first time. In a way he was right. It was their first time going slow—bypassing the heated sex and settling for making love. The sexual intercourse that requested more than just touch and release. It desired shared feelings—feelings Stiles’ knew was growing since Derek agreed to help Stiles find Lydia when he first arrived in France. 

The preparation wasn’t rushed, it was drawn out until Stiles was quivering and panting, thighs tensing and clenching around Derek’s waist. Derek was breathless as he moved his fingers in and out, mouthing at Stiles’ neck and bruising his pale skin. He was careful as well as determined to draw out any sounds from Stiles. Finally, where Derek felt that Stiles was ready, he lined his cock to the younger man’s entrance and guided himself in slowly, it was a toe curling experience that had Stiles’ head thrown back with a strangled moan, giving Derek better access as his tongue trailed along his pulse and towards his collarbone where he teased the skin with his teeth. 

This was love-making, Stiles had no other words to call it. And it was different, it held promises that Derek made and Stiles wanted to keep. And by the end of it when Stiles was crying as he climaxed and felt Derek release inside him, Stiles knew Derek wanted to keep them too.

~~~~~

Stiles watched as Derek ran his fingers through his hair after he pulled on his black v-neck Henley and slipping on his black leather jacket before raising his leg to step onto their bed where he sat. His eyes appreciated the strength in her legs as he lifted his pant leg to reveal a holster he quickly filled with a gun, moving smoothly with practice. Stiles sat on the bed, ready to complete the mission that he had been anticipating. 

Derek caught him staring and smirked. “If I didn’t know any better Stiles, I’d think you were checking me out.”

“Of course I was.” Stiles smiled cheekily. “Every chance I get; I will do such things.” Derek looked to Stiles over his shoulder before bending down and pulling on his combats, giving Stiles a perfect view of his rear. 

Stiles let out a wolf whistle that no doubt had Derek rolling his eyes, when he righted himself he turned to face Stiles. Dipping down he presented the younger man with a peck on his lips. “Good, I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.” And that right there made Stiles’ heart do unthinkable things.

“Thank you Der, for helping me get Lydia back. I know you didn’t have to.” Stiles shrugged half-heartedly. “Just thanks.”

Derek looked at him for a moment, eyes serious and thoughtful before nodding, “You’re welcome.” He fixed his jacket before placing his trademark smirk on his lips. “You ready.”  
Stiles grinned. “Fuck yeah.” He grabbed the duffle bag and slugged it over his shoulder before following Derek out of the room. When they go into their rental car, Stiles pulled the bag to his lap and zipped it open. He took out the makeshift bomb they were going to use and examined it. Derek looked over to him and gave a weak smile.

“Do you think it is going to work?”

“It should work enough to blow the door off.” Stiles replied stoic. He turned the contraption in his hand before making sure the detonation remote was in his pocket. Derek’s foot was heavy on the gas as he zipped through the traffic before pulling off on what looked like an abandoned road. Stiles swallowed and put the small bomb in the bag. 

When they pulled up to the gate, Stiles bowed his neck to read the sign. He gave Derek a curious look before the older man translated. Derek’s expression was pinched so Stiles let it slide. For now. When they pulled up to the gate Derek and Stiles shared a look before Derek sped through the gate. Hollering was barely processed as they crashed through, hitting a man as they went. 

Stiles could remember Laura’s informative voice in his head, “There aren’t a lot of guards above ground. So it will be little problems going in, it’s coming out with Lydia that is the hard part.” Stiles recalled her saying before she smiled, confident in his ability, “Remember your target.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Stiles voiced back at the time. When they stepped out of the car, two men were already down for the count and with a quick swipe of his gun from his hip to his hand, Stiles took care of the last one. He walked forward and unclipped the badge from the man’s front pocket and used it to gain access into the building. 

“It is the best entry point.” Derek recited Deaton. Stiles snickered and replied its’ continuation, “Better than alerting the rest of the organization before we even reach Lydia. Gotta say, the man had a point.”

“That’s why he is the head of your organization.”

Stiles looked back when they hid behind a corner. “We should combine our organizations.” Stiles replied thoughtfully. He eyed a woman and a man talking in front of a silver doored elevator armed to the teeth. Stiles pointed in the generally direction and Derek was quick to understand.

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Derek whispered before he stepped past Stiles, drawing the guards’ attention before delivering efficient blows to the head, his silencer on so he did not give away their position. Derek lowered his gun and winked at Stiles. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you some.”

Stiles placed a hand over his heart and made doe-eyes, “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” They walked up to the elevator, Stiles didn’t even bother hiding the bodies mainly because he wouldn’t know where to put them and that they would take too much time. 

Stiles swiped the access code they had stolen from the guard outside the building before clicking the button to the bottom floor. Stiles thought back to a similar layout of Eichen House back in Beacon Hills, originally a psychiatric ward but below it, it was rows of cells that consisted of supernatural creatures. He looked up to Derek before standing beside him and examining his weapon.

“I don’t have claws and teeth like you do.” He began, catching Derek’s attention. “I have guns and knives…if I am disarmed I only have my training to save me, which as you’ve seen, is good but not against guns.” He turned to Derek slightly. “I don’t know what they are equipped with. I don’t want you to become distracted by me. Derek, I want you to promise me that even if I’m down for the count that you’ll get Lydia and bring her home.”

“Stiles—” Derek tried to interrupt. 

“I love you Derek, as fucked up and rushed that sounds. I feel I could find myself loving you. I’m not saying our relationship is going to be a walk in the park, and it’s not going to be just sex, I’m tired of one night stands and in this field of work that’s all I’ve got, all we’ve got. And I’m fucking sick of it because I miss Lydia’s looks of disapproval when I come home after a fucking.” Stiles looked to his weapon and smirked. “I think she’ll like you.”

“Can’t wait for the approval.” Derek murmured after a moment. 

“Remember the mission.” Stiles reminded softly before kissing Derek. “Then we can go home and go on that date we talked about.” Derek’s grin turned feral before he looked forward, the elevator doors opening. Stiles and Derek raised their guns and walked forward, pulling the trigger and bullets rained down on the enemies spotted. Derek and Stiles divided as they took cover to reload, in that small timespan the alarms began blaring.

Stiles racked his brain, trying to remember the blue prints and pictures of surveillance that was hacked by Danny. He needed to remember where Lydia’s room is. It came to him in the instant of Derek’s shots ricocheting off the wall where someone took a face dive to the floor. “Come on!” He hollered running past the body littered hallway before taking a turn to the left. Derek followed after him, facing the way the came and taking care of followers while Stiles took aim towards those in front.

“Huh.” Derek muttered.

“What.”

“I expected more.”

Stiles snorted, “Don’t jinx us.” He stood in front of a door that wasn’t guarded and immediately froze. “Where are they?”

“Maybe we got them.”

“Let’s hope.” He pulled at the bomb in his bag and stuck it on the door, he rushed Derek away a good distance and knelt down, looking around the corner as he stuffed his hand in his pocket and clicked the button. The door exploded and Stiles ran back to the room and withheld a cry that threatened to escape his throat.

“Lydia.” He whimpered, feeling Derek sidle up next to him. Her hair was stringy and wet and she had a puncture wound on the side of both her temples, red was stark against her pale skin. Stiles rushed to the table and put the weapon down, working his lithe fingers rapidly to unfasten the restraints.

Lydia stirred and looked up with glossed eyes, “Stiles…what are you….you can’t be here.” More incoherent words followed after that but Stiles shook his head and shushed her. “Let me save you okay?” Lydia just nodded and Stiles helped her sit up and brought her to her feet. She let him lean against his frame and he picked his weapon back up. 

“Target retrieved, lets go.”

“Not so fast.” A feminine accented voice rang out. Derek whirled around and raised his weapon but not before he had to duck to avoid a bullet to the arm, as a result it scratched his skin and Derek hissed. Stiles smelt burning skin as he looked up from Lydia who clung to him.

The woman. Kate. Looked to Stiles and smiled. “Ah, there he is. Deaton’s ghost. I must say it is an honour to meet you.” Stiles scowled. Derek got to his knees and moved to a low crouch position, moving himself back to stand beside Stiles, helping him carry his step-sister.

“Oh how cute. I’ve seen the pictures.” Stiles and Derek bristled as she mused. “Where’s the rest of your team?”

“We’re it so far.” Stiles bluffed, they were it, but Kate didn’t need to know that.

“The best of both organizations. How exciting.” She looked like a gleeful child on Christmas day.

“Not really.” Stiles spoke at the same time as Derek who shrugged and said, “I guess.” 

Stiles assessed the situation. Kate had them cornered and had ammunition to hurt Derek. Stiles had Lydia and their objective was to retrieve her. Well…Derek’s target had always been Kate, ever since the photos Stiles had seen when he first arrived in France. But he is not sure if that had changed. 

Before he got to say anything, Kate suddenly lurched forward as she turned, disarming the man behind her as she backhand slapped him. Stiles immediately placed him as Valack, and he just gave Stiles a golden opportunity. While Kate lashed out at him Stiles raised his weapon and shot at her, catching her in the thigh, shoulder and grazing her stomach. Derek hoisted Lydia onto his back and ran ahead while Stiles looked to Valack.

“I will come back for you, but right now I owe you your life.”

Valack flinched but nodded in understanding. He slowly picked up Kate’s gun and Stiles turned away to catch up with Derek but the sound of a gun rung through the air, Stiles hoped Kate didn’t get the upper ground…but before he could think too much about a second one sounded…

“Stiles!” Derek barked, Stiles took up arms and defended them before they made it to the elevator.

Lydia blinked blearily, “Derek Hale?” She slurred. When Derek nodded Lydia gave a non-committed hymn. “I’ll kill you if you hurt him.” She began, her voice heavy with pain, effects of drugs and so lethargic Stiles wanted to wreak havoc twice over. 

“Fair enough.” Derek rumbled. Stiles looked to him and mouthed ‘thank you’ before reloading.

They made it out of the elevator and Stiles took the lead. It was quiet people wise, the alarm still blared rudely that made Lydia wince. Stiles raced to the front desk and unzipped the bag once last time, the bomb was bigger than the last and he clicked the button that started the five-minute timer. He bolted out in time to see Derek approach the same car they originally came in with. Stiles placed Lydia in the back seat, Derek raced around the car looking to see if it was bugged or had a bomb attached to it. When it was deemed safe to go, Stiles went in the front and slammed the door shut, Derek bypassed the seat belt as he started up the car and switched to reverse. Derek twisted his body so he could see out of the back window and stepped on the gas, creating distance between them and the house. 

When Derek performed a 180, he shifted gears and drove forward just in time for Stiles to hear the bomb go off, ashes decorated the sky like it was snow.

~~~~~

A private jet, owned by the Hales retrieved them a day later. Lydia had received medical attention the day before, afterwards they were informed that the Argent organization was crippled due to their attack and Stiles would say that Deaton looked kinda proud. Valack had indeed killed Kate and the second shot was aimed towards himself. Stiles' face twisted at that but accepted it. All he was worried about now was Lydia, she was healing, a bandage around her head and a pout on her face like the dressed wound offended her. 

“I’m sorry Stiles.” Lydia usually never apologizes, so hearing her say it for the past day and a half was making Stiles pout. It wasn't her fault she was kidnapped.

“Don’t be.” Stiles insisted as he stretched against Derek who was reading a book. Derek looked down and smirked, the hand on Stiles’ hip gripped him a little before Derek’s thumb moved back and forth. “We made a promise.”

“I know. What did mom and John have to say about it?”

“As far as they are concerned, I met up with you in France and we went sight seeing.” Lydia nodded in acceptance before she leaned back and looked calculating at Derek. Despite the bandage on her head she dressed in a navy blue pencil skirt, a black blazer and a white dress shirt, a decorative scarf around her neck that somehow made her forest green shoes match.

“So, where did you and Stiles meet.”

“At a bar.” Derek replied.

“I brought him back to my hotel.” Stiles informed. “We fucked.”

Derek pinched him and Stiles squealed with a laugh, “then he told me about you, that’s when we teamed up.”

“Stiles usually works solo and based off your file Derek, so do you. What changed?”

Derek and Stiles shared a look before smiling and looking back at Lydia. “Derek had information I needed to get you back.” 

“And Stiles had the skills we needed to get us in.” Derek finished. “Plus…I kind of like the loser.”

“Hey!” Stiles proclaimed diligently. 

Derek laughed and leaned down to kiss him. “It’s okay that you’re a loser.”

“Oh this is going to be so much fun.” Lydia vowed.

~~~~~

And she was right, bringing Derek over to meet the family was quite hilarious.


End file.
